


Restraint

by deluxekyluxtrashcan (rhoen)



Series: Work Hard, Play Harder [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Canon Compliant, Corsetry, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 07:16:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8240950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhoen/pseuds/deluxekyluxtrashcan
Summary: It's not often that Hux can justify spending so many credits on something so extravagant. His most recent purchase is worth it, though.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Many moons ago anon asked for Hux to play with a corset. It's a particular weakness of mine. I couldn't resist.
> 
> > **Do not translate or repost this fic without my permission**. Ask if you'd like to translate it. Linking to it with a short snipped it okay though!

The package has been in Hux’s room for days, unopened. It arrived some ten cycles ago, along with a standard shipment of supplies, but has remained untouched ever since. Last night, after checking his schedule, Hux finally decided he would open it come the morning.

It’s morning now. Hux stands in his underthings, skin still warm and slightly damp from the shower, and contemplates the rather innocuous box which now sits on his bed. An unusual sense of excitement starts to creep in, but he tries to keep it at bay. There is nothing special about this. Nothing at all.

Or so he tells himself as he reaches for the package and finally opens it. His fingers tremble a little, and he forces himself to pause for a moment before reaching for the tastefully simple tissue paper that covers his new possession. It’s tucked in, and he carefully loosens the delicate paper before pushing it off to reveal the high quality garment nestled beneath.

Hux feels a little breathless. It’s beautiful. Custom-made, the corset is exactly as he wanted it to be. His fingers, used to the soft, worn insides of his gloves, carefully caress a smooth black satin panel, gliding easily over flawless material interspersed intricate detail until he’s run the length of it and stands, staring, his fingers now absentmindedly resting on the tissue paper as he admires his choice. The detail is all in a deep blood red, each stitch perfectly placed. There had been moments where Hux questioned spending so many credits on something so extravagant, but now, looking at his purchase, he knows it was worth it.

Before taking it out of the box, Hux unfolds the corset fully, inspecting the clasps at the front, running his hand over the boning and eyelets, and admiring the lacing. He had considered leaving instruction not to lace it, but his schedule doesn’t allow the time he’d like to take to perform the task himself. He has allowed himself the extra time needed today to put on the corset, but that is all he can afford.

It’s a shame, really, he thinks as he strokes a panel of the corset once more before starting to don it. The fabric is soft and cool against his skin, promising a wonderful embrace, and he wishes he had more time to indulge in familiarising himself with the garment. What little time he has will have to do, though, and as he looks down, manipulating the hooks into place, he drifts towards the full length mirror hanging inside the door of his already open wardrobe. He only looks up once the last clasp is in place, and when he does he feels a smug smile tugging at his lips. Against his pale skin the corset is even more exquisite.

He reaches around, feeling for and tugging at the very top of the lacing to tighten it, and his head bows, the smile remaining on his lips as the corset is slowly drawn tighter. He works quickly but steadily, his fingers tugging their way down to the middle and then skipping to the bottom to work upwards, repeating the process. The growing tightness offers such a unique sensation, and Hux reminds himself to breath evenly and ignore his excitement at the supportive restriction. It’s hard, though, and not even the slight discomfort in his arms as he reworks the lacing to tighten it just a little more can distract him from the way it feels to be bound in the beautiful garment.

The thought of wearing the corset all day, hidden beneath his uniform, both thrills Hux and reminds him not to lace it too tightly: it has been a while since he last wore a corset for any great length of time. When he reaches that perfect point just before he’s laced it too tightly he makes himself stop, despite the growing temptation to keep going.

His gaze, which had drifted to a point on the floor, now shifts back to his reflection as he holds the loops of lacing. He intends to tie it after wrapping the excess around his front, but pauses, feeling the wonderful tightness of the corset restricting the sharp inhale he tries to take.

Getting through his shift is going to be a challenge. Hux can’t help admiring the perfect lines he’s drawn into, and almost lets go of the lacing as the urge to touch threatens to overcome him. He fights it, though, and for a moment only admires with his eyes. His pale skin is thrown into sharp contrast by the dark material, the red detail breaking up what would otherwise be too much black. As he twists to appraise the angle from the side his state of arousal becomes inescapably evident, and Hux stands almost completely still, his chest rising and falling with short, rapid breaths, as he takes in his overall profile. He can’t quite explain the duality; the beauty and sensuality of the corset tight against his pale, slender body, and his base reaction to the feeling of it. He should be better than this, but somehow doesn’t care that he isn’t. He doesn’t particularly care that his primary urge is to tug the lacing even tighter and then take himself in hand, bringing himself off as his other hand explores the lines and contours of his new corset.

Harshly, he tugs at the lacing he still grips, making himself give a startled, shallow gasp. The sharp action jars his body a little, and causes his cock to twitch and swell to almost uncomfortable hardness in interest. He can’t help moaning softly, both elated and frustrated by his current predicament. There’s no way he can indulge in anything right now. He only just has enough time to finish dressing himself before he’s due on the bridge.

With slightly trembling hands, Hux obeys his iron will and loosens the lacing just the right amount to make it comfortable enough to be worn all day. He then knots the excess, wrapping it around himself and tying a double-knotted bow. He can’t resist skimming his hands over the beautiful garment, admiring the softness of the material and the rigid boning helping to confine him. After the sudden restriction of a moment ago, he feels like he can breathe more deeply than ever, and as one hand remains on his stomach, feeling the rise and fall of his chest, his other reaches into the wardrobe to pull out his uniform.

Hux experiences an illicit thrill as he finishes dressing himself, the corset disappearing beneath his uniform but hugging him so tightly he cannot for one moment forget its presence. When he touches his sides through his uniform, Hux can feel it, and runs his hand up, following the subtle curve from hip to waist to chest.

He’s still hard, so before putting on his command cap, gloves and trench coat, Hux has to pause to readjust himself. He then crosses to his refresher, hand resting on his stomach to feel the rigid lines of the corset once more before he applies his favourite hand cream and goes back out into his room. He can feel the corset acutely with each shift as he tugs his coat into place, and pauses again before he leaves his quarters. He has to force himself to breathe slowly and not allow his focus to be taken up by the garment, or the promises he's making himself of what he’ll do once his shift is over.


End file.
